
Status Quo legend Francis Rossi comes to Perth Concert Hall
'I'm not a particularly good guitar player,' Status Quo legend Francis Rossi whispers.
'I'm better than I was but I'm probably not as good as my peer group, perhaps – well, definitely.'
Such self-doubt is perhaps not a quality most people would associate with the once cocksure Francis Rossi, especially those who grew up in the decades when his band seemed omnipresent on radios and TV screens.
However, approaching his 76th birthday, Rossi is a much-changed figure from the hell-raiser who lived the rock'n'roll lifestyle to the max with his friend and Quo sidekick Rick Parfitt, who died on Christmas Eve 2016.
A sense of reflection surrounds the frontman these days, with memories of past times to the fore both in the part-storytelling acoustic tour that he's bringing to Perth on Monday and in his 'new' album The Way We Were Vol 1, a collection of vintage demos.
Having landed his first record deal with The Spectres in 1966 aged 17 and playing live virtually non-stop ever since, it's little wonder that Francis regards touring as his defining lifestyle.
'I remember being very young seeing programmes on TV that were all about travelling circuses or fairs, and they would always travel together in convoy in trucks and buses, so it's always felt like that,' he says.
'Someone asked me a question last night about how kids make it and I said you have to be between diligent and obsessed, and it's become an obsession with me. I just don't really know to do anything else.
'There are bad sides to that and there's the positive side – it makes me happy when I'm doing it.'
After years of excess, the singer's London working class upbringing has informed many of his more recent decisions, so rather than expensive hotel stays on his latest tour he recuperates on his tour bus.
Playing acoustic gigs with a tiny entourage compared to the mind-blowing logistics of Status Quo ventures means he's in a mainly peaceful place. 'I keep telling the audience how much I'm enjoying myself and I'm worried that it sounds like a showbiz ploy, but it really isn't,' Rossi declares.
'I mean, at my age I would just stay home. It's not that I need the money, but I probably need the audience's adoration, if that's the word.
'I've discussed with my wife when I should stop, because I do have a fear that I may outlive my nest egg. Quo are touring in '26 and planning to tour in '27, so I will deal with that two years down the line.
'It's weird, coming into 76 I suddenly feel like 25 again, like it's something to grow. That might seem idiotic to other people and part of me thinks that way.'
'It has to be the insecure show-off in me that needs to be in front of people to validate his very existence. I'm too old to start pretending that I'm this giant rock star, but I'm a part of the bulls*** that is showbiz.
'I can tell people I'm definitely not as nice as they think I am, because the fans really think I'm wonderful. I can't be, and we do that all the time to showbiz people.
'It's why we get so upset when they do things that let people down by being greedy or sex pests or just grumpy s***s. I'm probably one of the grumpy s***s.'
Reflecting on his younger days, he says he was 'putting a front up' in terms of his public persona.
'Now I'm trying to say to people that I'm very much like they are, I just happen to be the one that's sat on the stage at that particular moment,' he explains.
'Quite often a question comes up at whatever venue and they laugh when I say playing here is actually far actually far more important to me than playing Wembley Arena or Glastonbury, where you're being sold something but you don't know what it is.
'I'm far too open sometimes, but that's what I am, and I've not many years left to be genuine with people.'
Status Quo started in 1967 as psychedelic hipsters, later morphing into the denim-clad Live Aid-openers who scored such huge hits as Rockin' All Over The World, What You're Proposing and Down Down.
'Most of the things we do on this tour I thought would be impossible, like Roll Over Lay Down and Don't Waste My Time, but something happened,' says Francis.
'The audience tend to listen because if we go quiet, it's f***ing quiet. There have been one or two little worries – at the beginning it was how many stories there will be or whether I'd repeat them, but I just ad lib or something else comes up.
'I try not to think about it until I face the audience, and something happens in that first 10 minutes when I talk to them and then I kind of follow my nose.
'Once or twice I've stumbled and thought it wasn't really working, but that's something I've learned over many years talking for Quo, as it were. You're stood there with maybe 15,000 people and you can sense it's not working, but something happens and you change foot.'
Status Quo have played a few times in Perth down the years. 'We used to stop for clothes at a shop in Perth on the way up north,' Rossi recalls.
'They used to get those Arab scarfs, the black and white ones or the red and white ones. We used to use them a lot, and various unusual garments – it was a fantastic shop.'
Francis Rossi, Perth Concert Hall, May 19.

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'I'm not a particularly good guitar player,' Status Quo legend Francis Rossi whispers. 'I'm better than I was but I'm probably not as good as my peer group, perhaps – well, definitely.' Such self-doubt is perhaps not a quality most people would associate with the once cocksure Francis Rossi, especially those who grew up in the decades when his band seemed omnipresent on radios and TV screens. However, approaching his 76th birthday, Rossi is a much-changed figure from the hell-raiser who lived the rock'n'roll lifestyle to the max with his friend and Quo sidekick Rick Parfitt, who died on Christmas Eve 2016. A sense of reflection surrounds the frontman these days, with memories of past times to the fore both in the part-storytelling acoustic tour that he's bringing to Perth on Monday and in his 'new' album The Way We Were Vol 1, a collection of vintage demos. Having landed his first record deal with The Spectres in 1966 aged 17 and playing live virtually non-stop ever since, it's little wonder that Francis regards touring as his defining lifestyle. 'I remember being very young seeing programmes on TV that were all about travelling circuses or fairs, and they would always travel together in convoy in trucks and buses, so it's always felt like that,' he says. 'Someone asked me a question last night about how kids make it and I said you have to be between diligent and obsessed, and it's become an obsession with me. I just don't really know to do anything else. 'There are bad sides to that and there's the positive side – it makes me happy when I'm doing it.' After years of excess, the singer's London working class upbringing has informed many of his more recent decisions, so rather than expensive hotel stays on his latest tour he recuperates on his tour bus. Playing acoustic gigs with a tiny entourage compared to the mind-blowing logistics of Status Quo ventures means he's in a mainly peaceful place. 'I keep telling the audience how much I'm enjoying myself and I'm worried that it sounds like a showbiz ploy, but it really isn't,' Rossi declares. 'I mean, at my age I would just stay home. It's not that I need the money, but I probably need the audience's adoration, if that's the word. 'I've discussed with my wife when I should stop, because I do have a fear that I may outlive my nest egg. Quo are touring in '26 and planning to tour in '27, so I will deal with that two years down the line. 'It's weird, coming into 76 I suddenly feel like 25 again, like it's something to grow. That might seem idiotic to other people and part of me thinks that way.' 'It has to be the insecure show-off in me that needs to be in front of people to validate his very existence. I'm too old to start pretending that I'm this giant rock star, but I'm a part of the bulls*** that is showbiz. 'I can tell people I'm definitely not as nice as they think I am, because the fans really think I'm wonderful. I can't be, and we do that all the time to showbiz people. 'It's why we get so upset when they do things that let people down by being greedy or sex pests or just grumpy s***s. I'm probably one of the grumpy s***s.' Reflecting on his younger days, he says he was 'putting a front up' in terms of his public persona. 'Now I'm trying to say to people that I'm very much like they are, I just happen to be the one that's sat on the stage at that particular moment,' he explains. 'Quite often a question comes up at whatever venue and they laugh when I say playing here is actually far actually far more important to me than playing Wembley Arena or Glastonbury, where you're being sold something but you don't know what it is. 'I'm far too open sometimes, but that's what I am, and I've not many years left to be genuine with people.' Status Quo started in 1967 as psychedelic hipsters, later morphing into the denim-clad Live Aid-openers who scored such huge hits as Rockin' All Over The World, What You're Proposing and Down Down. 'Most of the things we do on this tour I thought would be impossible, like Roll Over Lay Down and Don't Waste My Time, but something happened,' says Francis. 'The audience tend to listen because if we go quiet, it's f***ing quiet. There have been one or two little worries – at the beginning it was how many stories there will be or whether I'd repeat them, but I just ad lib or something else comes up. 'I try not to think about it until I face the audience, and something happens in that first 10 minutes when I talk to them and then I kind of follow my nose. 'Once or twice I've stumbled and thought it wasn't really working, but that's something I've learned over many years talking for Quo, as it were. You're stood there with maybe 15,000 people and you can sense it's not working, but something happens and you change foot.' Status Quo have played a few times in Perth down the years. 'We used to stop for clothes at a shop in Perth on the way up north,' Rossi recalls. 'They used to get those Arab scarfs, the black and white ones or the red and white ones. We used to use them a lot, and various unusual garments – it was a fantastic shop.' Francis Rossi, Perth Concert Hall, May 19.